


Blacked Out

by accioAvowal



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon didn't get deep enough into Eliot's head when it came to Mike, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioAvowal/pseuds/accioAvowal
Summary: This is just an introspective look at the scene between Eliot and Mike in The Quiet Room.





	Blacked Out

Eliot was always impeccably and sometimes painstakingly well-dressed. Today was no different. He was in a darker get-up than usual his dark red wine coloured button down beneath his black vest. Black slacks and spats that hugged his calves tightly above his black oxfords. The way he dressed was almost always a reflection of his mind – his emotions, and today Eliot felt like he was mourning.

Eliot wasn’t sure the exact subject of what he was mourning. Mike, his boyfriend of a few weeks? Penny, his acquaintance/kind-of-friend-sometimes who Mike had stabbed? Maybe Quentin, who Mike had actively attempted to stab? Which had Penny not been there…

None of the above were dead, per se, though Penny was close to it.

The knife Mike had used was cursed or some shit and was actively poisoning Penny. Penny honestly didn’t matter much to Eliot he knew that man could pull through anything. It was the fact that Mike had targeted Quentin that really, really bothered Eliot.

Eliot would never admit this but Quentin was arguably one of the closest people to him – besides Margo. She was the absolute closest. However he couldn’t argue that he and this high-strung super nerd that was Quentin had very quickly built a friendship. A real, honest friendship with one another.

And imagining his boyfriend, of all people trying to stab one of his two best friends… _It made Eliot sick. It made Eliot want to scream at him. In some sick and twisted way it made_ him _want to stab Mike._

But Eliot was better than that. Eliot just wanted to hear him explain himself. To explain why he had decided that trying to stab someone so close to his boyfriend was a good idea.

So he talked his way past Sunderland and into The Quiet Room. The only room on campus that no magic could be performed in. That was where they were keeping him, because he was still a possible danger to others: Eliot’s boyfriend.

Eliot kept his hands behind his back as he stood tall in front of the man seated before him. Mike was blonde, and in denim and seated on a stool. His face had a lionesque appearance to it, and in this particular moment as he was looking up at Eliot with these sad and almost pleading eyes. Mike was Simba.

However the more peculiar thing about Mike was the accessory he had around his wrists, he was shackled. Which honestly, Eliot should have expected but his eyes lingered on them for a moment before he started speaking.

“I was supposed to have a date last night.” Eliot started, as his hands behind his back felt the lack of anything. They had to do something, anything. And with no booze or cigarettes they could only rely on each other. So with one hand holding the wrist of the other the free hand’s thumb and middle finger connected. It probably nearly looked like he was trying to tut, but he wasn’t. Then the middle finger began to bend in at the first knuckle then out, back in and back out, repeatedly. It was one of Eliot’s very few nervous ticks.

“I got all dressed up.” Eliot’s voice, though slightly strained, did all the gesturing to himself it needed so that his hands didn’t have to.

“I’m sorry.” Mike had finally forced out of his throat. His voice was rough, raw, and thick with tension. Like he had just woken up or done an entire bong rip before Eliot had entered the room. Which was impossible, but fun to imagine, especially given the current situation. He was having a tough time it seemed. But he was barely giving Eliot anything. A reaction at all to anything. He just sounded thirsty. “All this stuff they’re saying I did, I don’t remember.”

Eliot barely believed his words. This was why he had come to see him. He needed to know whether he was lying, or telling the truth or why **_in God’s name_** he had tried to kill Eliot’s best friend. It took so much energy to keep his feet planted and not move towards him. To slap him, to punch him, for fuck’s sake part of him still wanted to _kiss_ this pathetic man in front of him because he just looked so _sad._

Eliot decided to take the bait verbally for him. “You were blacked out,” he finally said to him. Barely even trying to hide how little he felt. Until he thought about that. Maybe Mike had been possessed.

Until he _**really**_ thought about it. If it was possession and the Beast knew Eliot was close to Quentin. Then who was at the library the day they met. Was it Mike or was it the Beast? Had he been dating the Beast? He didn’t even know who the Beast even technically was. That was still a mystery to everyone. So even if he was dating the Beast he had no idea who he was dating.

The thoughts just kept building up inside of him until he finally spoke. “Were you blacked out when we met?”

Mike’s pitiful look up at Eliot as he tried to work his mouth around words was all the answer that Eliot needed. The answer was going to be some, ‘yes, but–’ bullshit that Eliot did not have the time for. No. He held up his hand and just shook his head at the blonde.

Eliot’s feet were already moving him away from Mike and towards the door. He could hear Mike talking, pleading, begging but he didn’t care anymore. He reached the door pretty quickly and Sunderland let him out. She also said something that Eliot also ignored as he just walked away.

Eliot felt like he couldn’t hear. If he could, it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was getting himself a stiff drink.


End file.
